


Going Home

by Godheadharley



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Christmas, Gen, Gender-Neutral Frisk, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Second Person, Post-Pacifist Route, Present Tense, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2015-11-20
Packaged: 2018-05-01 18:38:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5216435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Godheadharley/pseuds/Godheadharley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been ten years since the barrier broke. You were supposed to be the embassador to monsters, to live an important life among among both races. But you haven't. Things have changed. You've lack something that once kept you moving forward. Is it still possible to reconnect with everything you lost?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> After a two and a half year absence from the fan fiction world, I've returned with a new account and a new game to hold my attention. This is my first Undertale piece, so please excuse any little mistakes. This fic takes place around 10 years of the events of the game, putting Frisk around 18-19 years old. Obviously, there will be spoilers. Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated.

This morning begins like every morning.

At nine sharp, Toriel knocks softly on your door, then a little louder until you're roused enough to respond. Ten more minutes. It's always just ten more minutes. Five visits later, she finally enters and tells you to get up or you'll miss breakfast. Now, that’s a solid threat.

So, still tired from a long night of playing video games, you drag yourself out of bed and head for the kitchen, still wearing your Christmas-tree-patterned pajamas. Toriel buys you a new pair each year, the same design, but a size larger. It doesn't matter that you stopped growing two years ago and now struggle to keep them from falling on the floor.

The wonderful smell of pumpkin pancakes wafts from the kitchen, then to the table in front of you as Toriel sets down the tray. A huge stack, four cakes tall with syrup, whipped cream, and a cherry on top, just how you like it. She's sitting across from you now, hands folded politely in front of her and an eager gaze looking your way. You cut into breakfast with you fork, stuff a slice into your mouth, and give her a thumbs up. Satisfied, she goes back to her business, nose buried in a book, as you forge on through the wheaten tower.

Even though so many things have changed in the decade since the monsters left the underground, with your entire life being one of them, other things never do. Toriel always waits for input on breakfast even though you assure her that her cooking is amazing. Each week she hands you a shopping list to pour over like a teacher checking her student's homework. Well, maybe that's a bad analogy, seeing as how _she’s_ actually the teacher.

It's not long before you've crammed down the pancakes, which really are delicious, and find Toriel in her armchair paging through _72 Uses for Pumpkins._ Better than snails, you suppose. She also sees you're finished and closes her book. 

“Do you have any plans for today, dear?” She asks.

You shrug.

“Well, if you don't have anything to do...”

You already know where this is going.

“Could you take something to Asgore for me?”

You sigh. It's always the same request, but you nod anyway. Protest is only met with either a pout of a glare, and you can never decide which one is worse.

Without another word, you leave the table and head back to your room, trading your baggy holiday pajamas for a pair of jeans and a red and green striped sweater. By the time you've brushed your hair and grabbed your phone and keys, Toriel has prepared her package and set it on the table: some object swaddled in a square cloth tied at the corners, with an envelope pinned delicately to the side and sealed with a small candy cane sticker. You call goodbye to mom and head for the door, slipping on a pair of snow boots before heading out. Had it even snowed? You can't remember.

It had, and it's cold as hell.

Your breath hangs heavy in the air as you trudge up the path past bushes bundled in burlap and through the iron gate to the sidewalk. The quietness of the neighborhood is heightened by the thick blanket of white, barely brushed from the road by morning plows. Every driveway is occupied with a car; everyone wants to be home today. You do too, but this is more important.

You can't remember the last time Toriel and Asgore spoke in person. From the moment they entered the overworld, contact was sparse, though not for a lack of trying on his part. In an effort to win her back, or at least that's what you figured it was at the time, he had taken to landscaping for her, carving the bushes in front of her school in the shapes of different monsters. It delighted the kids, and maybe even garnered a smile from Toriel, but she never approached him with more than a few sentences. You couldn't really understand it at the time, but you're starting to now. 

But now even those short conversations have stopped; the two only exchanged parcels every month or two. Mostly, it was Toriel sending you out with a package and note to deliver to the former king. Sometimes Asgore will have something prepared in return, and maybe invite you in for tea, but other time he'll simply thank you quietly and that'll be it. No matter what happens, Toriel's next gift always comes on time. It isn’t a huge hassle, seeing as how their homes are only separated by a mile or so, but you always wonder what it means to them.

Lost in your trail of thought, the fall doesn't hit you until your head smacks on the slippery sidewalk. Momentarily dazed, you look up to see a figure silhouetted against the harsh winter sky, then a hand in front of your face.

“sorry about that, buddy” rings out a familiar voice.

“Sans?”

You take his hand and collect yourself, smoothing down your sweater and checking on your parcel, which had landed safely.

“frisk?”

His head cocks slightly to the side, though his manic grin never falters for a second. Before he has time to react, you fling your arms around the stout skeleton, gripping him so tightly you could feel the spaces between his ribs under his jacket. Not knowing quite what to do, he extends a hand and pats you on the head, just like he used to do when you were small.

“What are you doing here?” you stammer out. It’s been well over a year since you've last seen him face to skull.

“just checking out the new neighbors,” he replies.

Your brows stitch.

“bro and i got a new place just down the road” he states, gesturing behind him. “you wanna come check it out?”

“Maybe later,” you say, shaking your head. This is just like him. It doesn't matter how long you've been apart with little more than the occasional texted joke, what matters is what's happening right this moment. No formalities are needed.

“you going on a delivery or somethin'?” he asks, nodding towards the bag in your hand.

“Kind of. Taking something to Asgore.”

“cool. you mind if i tag along?”

You shrug. The honest answer is yes, but something about his nonchalant attitude is contagious. With that, he sidles up to you and nods for you to lead the way.

“So, why did you two decide to come live here, of all places?” You launch into conversation.

“bro got a new job.”

“Yeah? Where?”

“some restaurant, i think.”

“So you moved all the way out here from the city?”

“yep.”

“And what have you been doing?” 

“the usual,” he says, hands planted firmly in his pockets. 

You ponder for a moment what that could mean before realizing you've already arrived at Asgore's home. It's as unremarkable as any of the other nearly identical houses on the street. A stranger would never expect royalty to live here. You unlatch the gate and head up the path, Sans in tow, and ring the bell.

“still living with toriel?” He asks.

“Uh, yeah.”

“still in school?”

“No, I graduated in May.”

“then why are you still here?”

From inside you hear the lock click and you're greeted not long after with the king himself, still wearing a short-sleeve floral shirt even in the dead of winter.

“Frisk,” he bellows, “nice to see you again.”

It's always nice to see you with this guy. After all, you always bring a gift.

“Toriel sent this,” you state, offering up the bundled present.

He takes it carefully and looks a bit uncomfortable.

“Tell Tori I'll send something back next week,” he finally puts forth.

You nod, he says goodbye, and you turn to leave without another thought. The door shuts behind you.

“thing's that cold between you and the old man?” Sans inquires.

You try to form an answer but are cut off before you can.

“you never answered my question from before.”

“You have to let me answer one before I can get to the other,” you chide him.

“why are you still living with Toriel?” he repeats, unphased.

“Why not? She cooks, I don't have to pay rent... It's nice...” Your voice trails off, the list of reasons somewhat shorter than you thought it would be.

“really, frisk? i figured you'd be gone the second she let you go.”

“What about you? Still living with your brother after all these years?”

“what can i say?” he shrugs, “wouldn’t want bro to get bonely without me.”

“I'm heading home,” you announce with a frown, the two of you now standing outside of Asgore's gate.

“SANS!”

Another familiar voice you didn’t expect to hear today.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING? YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO GET THE MAIL BUT YOU SEEM TO HAVE MISSED THE MAILBOX BY HALF A MILE! YOU NEED TO PRACTICE YOUR AIM – OH MY GOD!”

The towering bag of bones you know as Papyrus bolts towards you and scoops you off the ground before you can object. Even now that you're matched for height with Sans, the older skeleton is still a giant. He holds you a good foot off the ground to look you in the eye.

“WOWIE! LOOK AT HOW BIG YOU ARE! SANS, LOOK AT HOW BIG FRISK IS!”

“i know, dude.”

“TORIEL MUST HAVE FED YOU MANY SO MUCH PIE.”

“she still does,” Sans teases.

Finally, Papyrus puts you down.

“COME WITH ME!” He demands as he takes your wrist with his freezing bones and pulls you along. “I MUST SHOW YOU MY NEW SPAGHETTI RECIPE.”

These two are just alike. No greetings, no recounting the time since your last meeting, just a jump straight back into action like nothing ever happened. But when Papyrus does it, it almost seems endearing. You glance back to catch San's reaction, but he's already gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I am already floored by the support I've received on just the first chapter! Rest assured, this story is bigger than it seems at the moment. There will be a minimum of ten chapters, but we'll just have to see how it goes.

Somehow, even though the layout of their current home is so different from that of their house in the underground, the bone brother’s place still has the same general feel. It’s almost inhumanly tidy, save for a few almost meticulously-placed piles of refuse, no doubt from Sans. You stop to slip off your boots in the entryway and they're barely off your feet before Papyrus pulls you along. You see Sans leaning against a wall near the entrance to the kitchen, even though you never saw him come in. He gives you a knowing wink and turns to walk down the hall. Papyrus doesn’t seem to notice and launches into a boast about all the new kitchen equipment he’s bought recently, which actually is quite impressive. 

While you let the taller skeleton rattle away, you survey their home. It’s pretty standard fare: a couch, a television on a stand, and a table with three chairs in the living room. There's a hall with four doors, one plastered with warnings and labels, while the others are barren. The kitchen sits beside it, gleaming from the stainless steel of all the appliances. A pot rack hangs from the ceiling stuffed with equipment, and Papyrus has to duck to avoid causing a clatter. Luckily, it seems the pair have yet to do any major renovations as the sink is still at a normal height. 

Eventually your eyes are drawn to the myriad of framed pictures hung in the livingroom. They all appear similar: Papyrus standing in front of some sort of monument or building, many of which you can recognize as famous landmarks. A few of them even include other faces you know, such as one with Undyne and Alphys standing next to him on a beach with a volcano in the distant background. They're all clad in swimsuits and look happy. Sans isn't in any of the pictures.

“Do you travel a lot?” you ask, finally interrupting him. 

“YES!” He spouts, filling a large stock pot with water and setting it on the stovetop. “WE’VE BEEN TO MANY DIFFERENT PLACES TO LEARN ABOUT LOCAL CUISINE.”

“Does Sans come with you?”

“OF COURSE! IT WOULD BE UNFAIR TO LEAVE MY BROTHER BEHIND. WHAT EVER WOULD HE DO WITHOUT ME?”

It becomes obvious that Sans is always the one behind the camera. 

“FRISK, DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY KINDS OF PASTA THERE ARE?” He shouts, changing the subject.

You shake your head. 

“NEITHER DO I! THERE ARE JUST SO MANY, AND EVERY TIME I THINK I’VE FOUND THE END, I ALWAYS FIND ANOTHER VARIETY! BUT I HAVE YET TO FIND ANY THAT BEST MY HOMEMADE SPAGHETTI!”

In the kitchen, Papyrus is chopping up vegetables for the sauce with incredible speed. It’s apparent that he’s done this quite a bit, though you’re still worried about how it might turn out. You never were quite able to figure out if monsters, or at least skeletons, have quite the same sense of taste as humans. The combination of the brothers' diets leads you to believe the answer is no. You settle in on the couch and turn on the TV. You’re likely going to be here for a while. Out of the corner of your eye, you see a flicker of blue, and feel the cushions shift. Sans is now sitting beside you, gaze fixed on the screen. No matter how many times you experience his shortcuts, whether first- or second-hand, it’s always a bit unnerving. Clutched in his hand is a bottle of barbeque sauce with the top unscrewed. 

“So, uh, Papyrus told me you guys have been traveling,” you begin. 

“yep.”

You realize you don’t have much of a follow-up question to that, so instead you switch topics. 

“Still doing well up here?”

“mhm.”

“Have you been back to the underground recently?"

“yep. actually, we’re going back for christmas next week. we go every year. i told tori she should come.”

“I know she wants to," you recall her giving it a mention several weeks ago, "but she still has a ton of work to do over the break.”

“a ton you say?”

“Don’t,” you demand with the straightest face you can muster.

He smirks, but leaves the joke hanging in the air. Somehow, it’s even more bothersome when he doesn’t finish the pun, and he’s aware of that fact. 

“you should come.”

“To the underground?”

“yeah.”

“Why? I don’t still have a place there like you guys.”

It's easily been years since you've been back.

“come on,” he nudges you with his elbow, “it’s tradition.”

“I can’t believe you, king of the lazy bones, is trying to goad me into doing something.”

“fine, don’t. it doesn’t matter to me,” he shrugs and takes a swig of his sauce.

“Well, I never said…” you trail off. Even with the TV on and Papyrus humming over a boiling pot in the kitchen, the silence between you and Sans on the couch aches. 

“I’ll think about it,” you finally concede. Sans smiles in response, then slumps down further into the couch and focuses on the show you’re both watching. It’s an airing of Mettaton’s holiday special, the same one they put on every year at this time. 

Not long after, the scent of simmering sauce fills the house, and you're relieved with how it seems it smells. In fact, more than relieved. It's heavenly, the kind of idyllic fragrance you'd expect to come from a candle named 'Italian Bistro'. Distantly, you hear Papyrus begin to recount the various dishes he's tried in restaurants around the world, but there's too much technical culinary jargon to keep you focused. Nestled among the comfortable cushions in the warm, fragrant air of their home, you begin to phase in and out of consciousness. Your catch a glimpse of Mettaton on the screen, wearing what can only be described as a sexy santa costume, before you're out.

By the time you wake up again, the sky is bleeding in orange and red from the windows. For a moment, you think you’re back at home, in your bed, but the illusion is broken when you look down to see the bone-patterned blanket covering you. You’re very groggy from such a long nap, and it takes you a minute or so to regain your bearings. It seems so much like the time before your nap could have been a dream. 

“THAT IS CHEATING,” Papyrus yells from the table to your right. 

“shut up dude, you’re gonna to wake ‘em up,” Sans whispers back.

You look over to see the brothers playing a board game. A big pile of colorful faux money sits between Sans and the board, while Papyrus is left with only a few bills. The taller skeleton moves his piece across the board with a frown, the draws a card and frowns further. You rise to stretch and both them turn their attention to you instead. 

“Is the spaghetti done?” you ask, rubbing your eyes. 

"hours ago, buddo," Sans replies, leaning back with his hands on the back of his skull.

"Why didn't you guys wake me up?" you yawn.

“I WAS GOING TO BUT SANS INSISTED ON LETTING YOU SLEEP.”

“you looked comfy.”

Papyrus stands and heads for the fridge while Sans counts his stacks of fake cash, secretly placing a few skips in his brother’s pile while his back is turned. Papyrus then approaches you with a shopping bag containing several plastic containers of spaghetti. 

“IT SHOULD BE ACCEPTABLE REHEATED BUT YOU MUST RETURN SOON TO HAVE IT FRESH. THERE IS NO SUBSTITUTE!”

He hands you the bag as you slip on your boots by the door. Sans slips on his sneakers as well. 

“I know the way home,” you smirk at him. 

“who knows what might be lurking out there,” he jokes, a hint of something dark under his breath.

“Other than you? Probably nothing.” 

Despite what you’ve said, he still prepares to leave. You thank Papyrus for dinner and apologize for missing it too. 

“YOU ARE QUITE WELCOME. IN FACT, IT IS MY PLEASURE! NOW THAT WE ARE LIVING SO CLOSE TOGETHER, I CAN USE YOU TO TEST MY NEW RECIPES! AND SANS,” he turns to his brother, “PLEASE DO NOT MISS FRISK’S HOME AND KEEP WALKING. WE MUST STILL DETERMINE WHO IS THE CHAMPION IN OUR GAME. I HAVE A FEELING THAT I WILL MAKE A COMEBACK! NYEH HEH HEH!”

“ok,” Sans says, raising a hand goodbye. 

You head through the door and wait as Sans locks it. It’s gotten much colder since earlier, and you’re instantly hit with a chill that stabs through your sweater. You clutch your arms around your body and pine for the warm couch again. You're shivering visibly. 

“cold?” Sans asks, walking next to you as you make it to the sidewalk. 

You nod. 

“need a jacket?”

You nod again, figuring he’ll tell you to run back inside and grab one. Instead, he unzips his own coat and offers it to you. Normally you would refuse, but it’s just too chilly to be polite. 

“Aren’t you cold?”

“nah. no skin, remember?” he states, pointing at his own cheek. He’s clad only in a tee shirt and shorts now and just the sight of him makes your teeth chatter. Despite what he says, a cast of blue comes over every bit of his exposed body, and you can swear his hands are shaking a bit. Still, you slip on his jacket and flip up the hood to protect your ears and neck. 

“i’m serious about the offer to head down with us,” he rekindles the conversation from earlier. 

“I’m serious about considering it,” you offer back, plodding along the slushy sidewalk. 

“alphys, undyne, and everyone else will be there. it’ll be fun.”

You sigh. 

“something wrong?”

“It’s just…” you struggle to find the right words, “I feel like I’ve been out of touch for so long."

Even just the thought of what you want to say makes you ashamed. 

"When we came to the surface, Asgore asked me if I’d be the embassador between humans and monsters, but it turned out between the gold and the curiosity that you all didn’t really need some kid's help. It was nice going back to a normal life for a while, going to school and living with Toriel, but it seemed like I was losing everything that made mespecial too. I guess I convinced myself after everything I went through in the underground that it would be the same up here.”

“you’re still the only kid with a goat for a mom,” he jokes.

“I know, I know. I...I just feel like I let everyone down after all the things I did to free you guys. I stopped being so important - I stopped being important at all. I don’t even know many monsters anymore.”

“well that doesn’t mean you can’t start fresh again. and believe me, even if you don’t talk to every monsters, every monster still talks about you.”

You find San’s smile comforting. When you don’t come back with a reply, he instead launches into some of his new favorite jokes, all of them based around horrific puns. Still, even though you’re groaning as much as you are laughing, your worries slip away, as do the minutes, and it’s not long before you’re standing in front of your house. 

“glad you still find my jokes humerus,” he says, putting on the widest grin he can. 

“Glad you’re still boning up on new puns,” you return, somehow forcing his smile even wider. 

“I’ll let you know about our plans for the holidays,” you say, turning to head for the door. “Night Sans.”

“oh, there’s one more thing,” he adds. 

You turn back to face him and he takes a step closer.

“you have spaghetti sauce on your shirt,” he says prodding at your chest. 

You look down, only to get your nose flicked by his bony finger. 

“wow i cannot believe you fell for that one. you didn’t even eat dinner. you’re amazing.”

“Goodnight Sans,” you groan, unable to even look him after that joke. 

“g’night frisk.”

And just like that, you’re alone.


	3. Chapter 3

The second you’re through the door, you realize three things. One, you’ve messed up badly. Two, you’re probably never going to hear the end of this. And three, Asgore is standing next to the kitchen table, his hand resting gently on Toriel’s back. With a speed you didn’t even think possible, she shoots up from her seat and bounds toward you, picking you up and squeezing you until you can’t breathe. Frankly, you’re a little tired of everyone picking you up today; it only reminds you of what a pipsqueak you still are. 

“Frisk!” Toriel blurts out. “My stars, I was so worried about you, child!”

She sets you down and for a moment you think you might be in the clear. It becomes apparent this is not the case as Toriel’s expression melts from one of relief to one of searing anger. 

“Why didn’t you answer your phone?,” she spouts, words flying out at a hundred miles per hour. “Where were you? Do you know how worried I was? We were about to go to the police! Why didn’t you text me back? We thought you had been…” she pauses to catch her breath, before continuing, a bit more composed, “we thought something bad had happened to you.”

You fish into your back pocket and retrieve your phone, but the screen is dark. You must have forgotten to charge it last night. From the dining room, you hear Asgore clear his throat. He looks a bit fidgety and you swear you can see him blushing a bit. 

“Well,” he starts, pulling on his more winter-appropriate coat, “I’m glad to see you made it home alright. I should be going.”

Toriel says nothing, not even looking in his direction as he lumbers out, pausing to give you a pat on the head before leaving. You’re actually stunned to have seen them together in the same place. 

“Frisk, you still haven’t answered me,” Toriel says after Asgore has left. She is definitely blushing. “Where were you?”

“Oh, uh, I ran into Sans and Papyrus,” you answer meekly. As warm and cuddly as Toriel can seem, she can be equally as fierce when she’s upset. Luckily, it looks like she’s already calmed down a bit. 

“Where?” 

“Just down the road from here. They got a new place in the neighborhood.”

“Really?” she seems excited. “I can’t believe Sans didn’t tell me! Oh, those boys.”

You know that Sans and Toriel still talk, but something makes you feel a bit off about the exchange. It almost seems like Sans talks to her more than he did to you. Which, now that you think about it, is probably true.

“Papyrus made spaghetti,” you change the subject, holding up the bag of plastic containers. 

“How nice,” she grins as she takes the leftovers and stows them in the fridge. 

You attempt to slink off to your room, but you fail. 

“Don’t think for a moment you are not in trouble,” she declares with a glare you can feel on trying to pierce through your back. 

“But mom,” you grumble, “I’m not a kid anymore.”

Toriel is silent for a moment. You expect her to come back with some variation of ‘my house, my rules’, but you’re surprised when her tone turns somber.

“I know. Just...let me know next time, okay?”

You nod as it starts to dawn on you how bad she must have felt to have no idea where you were for so long. Not only has Toriel rarely been away from you for this long in almost ten years without explanation, but she’s no doubt still terrified of losing you. And, in another way, she’s actually starting to. 

“I love you, Tori,” you call back from the hallway. 

“I know, Frisk. I love you too.”

With that, you retreat to your room. For a few hours, you play a game on your computer, but your thoughts are too cloudy to concentrate. In the span of just a day so much seems to have changed. It reminds you of another day, long ago, when your life started down a different path deep underground. Despite having just napped for far too long, you still feel your eyelids begin to droop around midnight, and you crawl into bed.

_It’s terrifying. Everything seems to much bigger down here, from the massive stone door of the ruins behind you to the forest of leafless trees looming above. The path is wide and illuminated, but this grants you little solace. It feels much more like you’re walking into an ambush than it does a nice stroll through a wintery wonderland._

_For a moment, you think about going back. Sure, Toriel had told you not to, but maybe you were wrong about this. You could have a life in there, a home, even if it wasn’t very exciting. Sometimes excitement is bad._

_But she wouldn’t let you come back._

_With no other options, you press forward, taking in all the eerie silence and stillness around you. For as far as you can see, the path stretches on featureless, flanked on both sides by an impossibly tall wall of bark and branches. Is this the entire underworld? Are you fated to forge on forever in total solitude?_

_After what seems like ages of walking, you come across a branch lying in the path and carefully step over it. A few moments later, you hear the same limb crack and you whip around to confirm it’s now splintered in pieces. A sense of dread seeps in through your skin with the cold. You continue on, walking faster now. Between steps, you think you can almost hear the snow shift and compress under another pair of feet. In the distance, you can just make out what looks to be a fence and you’re now in a sprint. Any sign of civilization, even monster civilization, is better than being out here alone. You are dismayed to find that it’s only a gate built over a short bridge. Still, it’s something, and you are instead now hopeful as you take your first step over the gap._

_You hear it now._

_The distinct sound of footfalls behind you, forging closer. You’re frozen in fear, unable to move any further even though your entire body is screaming for you to run. Though you’re still a kid, you know this is bad. Toriel was right, you’re going to die here._

_“Human,” you hear the voice call from behind. You can’t bear to turn around. “Don't you know how to greet a new pal?”_

_Every muscle in your body tenses. The pause between every word is agonizing._

_“Turn around and shake my hand.”_

_Seemingly compelled by some unknown force, your feet shuffle to turn and your body follows. Your eyes are shut tightly and you’re shaking. Your left arm juts out instinctively as you wait for what you know will be immeasurable pain, then nothingness._

_But the pain never comes._

_Instead, you jump at the cold touch of a bony hand around yours and the obscene sound spouting between you and your assailant. Your eyes spring open to reveal... something, a little taller than you in a blue hoodie. Its hand retreats as you’re stuck staring into the black voids where you might normally find eyes. Instead, two pinpricks of light beam towards you like sun rays._

_“heheh… the old whoopee cushion in the hand trick. it’s ALWAYS funny.”_

_Its mouth barely moves from the same mile-wide grin as it speaks, its voice deep and warm, almost familiar._

_“anyways, you’re a human, right? that’s hilarious,” it continues. Though its face seems wrought of bone, everything shifts and melds like skin, like when its eye sockets narrow to accommodate for the top of its cheeks as its expression deepens._

_“i’m sans. sans the skeleton.”_

_A skeleton? What other kinds of monsters could there be down here?_

_“i’m actually supposed to be on watch for humans right now. but… y’know… i don’t really care about care about capturing anybody.”_

_Somehow, you start to feel like everything is going to be alright. Even though you've so far encountered several terrifying creatures, nearly all of them turn out to be friendly after the initial shock. It fills you with determination._


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's chapter is a bit longer, but it's probably my favorite so far. Please continue to leave kudos and comments if you like it!

It’s morning. For once, you actually wake up before Toriel comes knocking, but not too early. You roll out of bed and make for the bathroom, eager to take a shower. No plans again for the day, and with the monthly royal parcel already delivered, you figure you’ll just spend it lounging around and perhaps catch that holiday special you glimpsed last night. It's been years since you sat through the whole thing. 

As you turn on the tap and wait for the water to warm up, you catch a glimpse of blue in your periphery. 

It’s your reflection. You’re still wearing San’s jacket. You must have fallen asleep in it without even noticing. For a moment, you mull over your options of returning it, but put off the thought for later. Right now, you just want the warm water of the shower running through your hair. You remove the jacket and hang it up on the towel rack, then take one last look in the mirror. Despite everything, it’s still you. 

After your shower, you get dressed and find that Toriel is cooking breakfast, omelettes today, and she greets you with a sweet smile. You sit down at the table and she brings you your meal, waiting eagerly again to see if you like it. You take a bite and nod, allowing her to go on with her chores.

“Are you staying in today, dear?” Toriel calls from the kitchen. 

“Actually,” you begin between bites, “I have to take San’s jacket back."

“All right, but please let me know this time if you’re staying out late.”

Late? You came home last night before six. You guess that does count as late for Toriel. 

“Will do,” you assure her, finishing your breakfast quickly.

“Oh, and please tell them I said hello.”

“Okay.”

You return to the bathroom to collect the jacket and then find one of your own. As you head for the door, you’re reminded of what Sans had pressed you about last night, and walk back towards the kitchen. 

“So, I know you’re busy with work, but Sans and Papyrus were wondering if you wanted to go back to the underground for Christmas.”

“I would love to go,” Toriel responds, continuing to wash dishes in the sink, “but as I already told them, I really can’t. There are so many little monsters at school who will be alone for the holidays. I cannot leave them behind.”

“Okay, I’ll let them-”

“But if you want to go,” she continues, “you are welcome to, as long as you stay with the brothers.”

“I don’t know about that,” you mumble. 

“I trust them,” she smiles. “It will be good for you to be out of the house.” Her smile falls a bit, almost imperceptibly. 

“I’ll think about it,” you finish, flipping up the hood on your jacket. 

From behind you, Toriel calls goodbye. You reciprocate and head out. 

It’s just as cold as yesterday, but now the wind has picked up. Your jacket blocks most of the biting breeze, but any part of you unprotected soon reddens, leaving you to clutch the sides of your hood over your face and tuck your sleeves far over the edges of your gloves. Powdery snow is swept up in great clouds from the lawns as you pass by, sticking to your fringe and restricting your vision. It reminds you a bit of the stretch between Snowdin and Waterfall where the air plummets in temperature to a nearly unbearable level. 

When you finally reach the bone brother’s house, you notice a few strings of red and green lights have been hung up around the windows. You wonder if Papyrus had put them there after you left. You head for the door, and just before you reach out the knock, it swings open to reveal Sans.

“hey,” he greets you, yawning. 

“Oh, hi, I was just here to deliver… your jacket,” you trail off as you realize Sans is now wearing another coat identical to the one you’re holding. 

“cool,” he responds, taking the garment from your hand and tossing it back into the house without so much as a glimpse of where it lands. 

“I didn’t know you had more than one,” you smirk. 

“what you think i wear the same thing every day?”

You nod and laugh under your breath. 

“Anyway, that’s it. Bye Sans.” you say as you begin to turn away. 

“hey,” he reaches out and grabs you gently by the shoulder. You turn back with a curious expression. “i was about to go visit pap at work. its his first day. wanna join me?”

“Uh, sure,” you shrug. 

“sweet. i know a shortcut.”

He takes you by the hand and leads you along, out towards the street. You quickly retrieve your phone from your pocket and text Toriel that you’re going out for brunch. Once you reach the road, Sans turns and begins heading back between his house and that of his neighbor’s. Your prepare yourself for something weird. As you turn the corner into what should be the brother’s backyard, you find yourself standing in front of the entrance to a diner. You instinctively turn your head, but behind you is nothing but an intersection with a gas station and a few cars waiting at a red light. The house is nowhere to be seen, and it’s clear you’re now at least a few miles from the sleepy neighborhood where you live. 

Sans lets you go, planting his bony hands back in his pockets and walking through the door to the diner. You follow, spotting the words ‘MONSTER CAFE’ written in bright red paint on a sign above the entrance. Once inside, you see that it’s a pretty apt description. Almost everyone here, both those who appear to be working and those sitting down to eat, are monsters. A few, nervous-looking humans are peppered in. This is the most monsters you’ve seen in one place in a very long time, and they all generally seem to be happy. 

“hOI!” you hear a voice call from the host podium in front of you. A small creature pops up from behind, white paws planted on the top. “i’m temmie. welcome to da monster cafe!”

You can barely contain yourself at the sight of a temmie wearing a tiny bowtie. 

“you want booth or counter??” she asks. 

“counter,” Sans replies. 

“KAY!” she responds and walks you over to a couple of seats near the end of the bar. “enjoy da meal!” She leaves, then stops to fawn over two humans sitting in a booth. Her eyes sparkle as she struggles to explain how cute they look. The humans seem uncomfortable. 

You look down at the menu in front of you. It looks hand-written and totally unorganized, a mix of monster food and human dishes of various origin. In the corner is a small sticker pasted on apologizing for a shortage of spider pastries due to the holidays. You turn over the menu, expecting to find more dishes, but instead it’s one long listing for spaghetti, describing the process that goes into making their apparently signature meal. The description runs down the page and eventually somehow goes on to discuss what the weather has been like lately. From the handwriting and the tone, it’s apparent who made this addition. That, and the fact that the description actually ends with “SINCERELY, THE GREAT PAPYRUS!”

A bunny girl walks up to the counter in front of you to take your order, remarking how Sans is already in for his third meal today. He shrugs and requests a bottle soy sauce. You order the spaghetti and a cup of hot chocolate, seeing as how you can’t even identify most of the other things on the menu. She nods and walks away to put in the order. You're still somewhat full from the omelette earlier, but you'll at least try the pasta. 

“so,” Sans starts, “tori let you back out today?”

“Why wouldn’t she?” 

A vulkin waddles over carrying a tray with your hot chocolate and San’s soy sauce. You take your mug and test the liquid carefully. It’s boiling hot. Sans flips the plastic top on his bottle and takes a long draw before setting it back down on the counter. 

“figured she’d put you on lockdown after you disappeared.”

“You seem to know a lot about my life,” you prod. 

“well, she did call me last night and talk my ear off. or she would’ve if i had any," he jokes and cups his hands playfully where his ears would be. 

“She really was mad, wasn’t she?” you frown. 

“yeah, but only cause she cares about ya.”

“She told me she can’t go back this year,” you switch topics. “She’s staying behind with some of the monster kids for the holidays.”

He grunts an acknowledgement and continues with his, er, drink, which is still visibly bubbling. 

“When are you leaving anyway?”

He shrugs. You’re a little frustrated. After all that time he hassled you about coming last night, now it seems he can’t care less about the entire trip. You both sit in silence for a while, nursing your respective drinks. 

“DID SOMEONE ORDER THE SPAGHETTI?” Papyrus shouts from up the counter. “THAT IS A TRICK QUESTION, THE ANSWER IS ALWAYS YES.”

Papyrus comes bounding over with a giant plate of pasta and sauce in his hands. He’s wearing a pink apron and a chef’s hat over his battle body, and his hands are hidden in oven mitts. He sets down the plate in front of you with an expectant smile. 

“FRISK! WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME YOU WERE COMING?”

At the mention of your name, the din of the restaurant quiets, save for a few hushed whispers. 

“Frisk?” the bunny waitress asks, ears perked sharply. 

“Is it really them?” a slime calls from one of the booths. 

Near the corner, a lesser dog barks excitedly. 

Then, after a beat of silence, everyone is up from their seats and coming at you. They're showering you with praise, asking for your autograph on various body parts, and telling you all bout their lives in the overworld. You huddle on your seat, sweating from the heat of a dozen monsters all trying to crowd in and speak with you. The sharp contrast between the last minute and now leaves you feeling very claustrophobic, knees pulled you your chest. Everywhere you look is a different creature trying to get your attention. Papyrus looks confused, a drop of sweat forming on his browbone. He backs away towards the kitchen, allowing the servers to rush in and accost you from behind the counter. Even though the crush of bodies is wholly positive, you still feel very sick you your stomach and have to slap your hands over your ears to escape the roar of voices. 

Sans takes you by the hand again and pulls you away, pushing politely through the crowd until you’re at the door. Several monsters are trying to give you presents: gold, human money, anything they can shove into your free hand. You desperately try to apologize but the words won’t leave your throat, not that they could be heard over the crowd cheering your name. Your head is spinning now, and you're struggling to make it through the mass of creatures.

Once you’re through the door, Sans quickly guides you to the back of the restaurant, turning the corner to once again arrive instantly in front of his house. He lets you go and gives you a moment to catch your breath. Again, you look over your shoulder to grasp your surroundings, and also to make sure no other monsters have somehow made it through the ‘shortcut’. 

You hear the door creak open and look up to see Sans beckoning you inside. You graciously accept and head in, now feeling exhausted. You make it to the couch, plopping down and unzipping your jacket while Sans heads to the kitchen. With your eyes closed, you can hear him rummaging through the fridge. He joins you a moment later, lounging on the other side of the couch with a bottle of mustard. He motions to share his condiment with you, but you pass. He chuckles and tosses you a can of soda he had hidden behind his back instead.

“need any more proof how much monsters love you?”

“Did you do that on purpose?” you demand, sitting up and leaning in towards the skeleton.

“no,” he assures, looking taken aback at the suggestion. 

You frown at him. 

“seriously.”

You lean back and sigh. 

“but,” he starts, “isn’t that what you wanted? for all the monsters to like you?”

“No. I mean, yes, but,” you bury your face in your hands.

“calm down buddy,” he puts one hand on your shoulder. 

“I don’t know what I want.”

After a few moments, you pull away and Sans flicks on the TV. As luck would have it, the Mettaton holiday special is just starting. Well, it’s not really that lucky, since the MTT channel is running it 24 hours a day at the moment. It's of the same caliber as most of his other productions; quite flashy but oddly stylish. After every line he spikes the camera and winks or kisses the air. It's not hard to imagine why he's caught on so well with humans, even if it's not for quite the reason he expected. 

Now that you’ve settled in, you’re feeling much better. All the stress of the stampede has melted away like a bad dream. In fact, you feel so comfortable that you start to doze, head bobbing between breaths. You know you shouldn’t sleep here again, Toriel will surely start to worry, but there’s something so calm about this place. You feel better here than you do at home, where you’re often left staring up at the ceiling for hours as you watch the dawn light stream in through the window. 

In your sleepy haze, you can hear Sans doing something in the kitchen. Some time later, you can feel him place his hand on your head and hear him breathing. Even though it makes no sense, given his anatomy, the sound fills you with... something.


	5. Chapter 5

When you wake up, you can hear Sans breathing again. Your head is resting on his chest, and you’re covered up with a blanket. It’s still very light outside, but it won’t be that way for long, and your carefully pull out your phone expecting a torrent of frantic texts from Toriel. Strangely, the last text from her is still a confirmation from this morning when you let her know about your meal plans. Maybe she’s starting to lighten up, you think, after your safe return last night. 

You still feel very sluggish and tired; everything in this house makes you feel too at ease. From somewhere else, you hear footsteps approaching. You rouse to see Papyrus emerging from the hallway, with a towel around his shoulders. He’s still wearing his trademark hero outfit but it’s soaking wet, leaving a trail from the bathroom. He spots you too and you put a finger to your lips, gesturing towards Sans who is still fast asleep. 

“I AM SORRY, FRISK, I DID NOT MEAN TO WAKE YOU,” he says as quiet as he can muster. “I HAVE JUST RETURNED FROM MY FIRST DAY OF WORK. IT IS NICE TO SEE YOU SLEEPING WITH MY BROTHER. YOU LOOK VERY COMFORTABLE.”

Your face goes red at the implication, but Papyrus is none the wiser. You stand, careful not to wake Sans. 

“I’m going to head home,” you let the other brother know. “Thank you two for being so welcoming.”

“WHAT A SILLY THING FOR YOU TO SAY! YOU KNOW THAT YOU ARE ALWAYS WELCOME HERE. I KNOW THAT YOU CANNOT STAY AWAY FROM ME AND MY WONDERFUL COOKING. IT IS VERY GOOD TO HAVE SOMEONE ELSE AROUND AGAIN OTHER THAN THAT LAZY BONES.

You smile. 

“Papyrus?”

“YES, FRISK?”

“Sans invited me to come with you guys and, I think-”

“COME WITH US WHERE?”

“...back to the underground,” you reply, brows stitched.

“WHY ARE WE GOING THERE?”

“Don’t you two always go back home for Christmas?”

“NO, WE HAVEN’T BEEN BACK TO SNOWDIN IN YEARS. WE ALWAYS TRAVEL TO HUMAN CITIES, BUT WE HAVE NO PLANS TO GO ANYWHERE NOW. HUMAN CITIES ARE SO MUCH MORE INTERESTING! FOR INSTANCE, DID YOU KNOW THAT THERE ARE PLACES WHERE HUMANS HAVE NEVER SEEN MONSTERS? THOSE ARE MY FAVORITE!” Papyrus continues to ramble on, the volume of his voice increasing. Still, Sans is snoozing away. 

“Forget I said anything,” you say. 

“OKAY, I WILL TRY MY HARDEST TO FORGET.”

Papyrus walks over to the couch and picks up Sans, throwing him over his shoulder. The shorter skeleton is limp, arms hanging down over his brother’s back and snoring lightly. Papyrus walks off towards the hall and stops for a moment to wave goodbye. You return the motion and head out into the cold afternoon.

_You’ve just finished your date with Papyrus. After pouring his heart out and lamenting the fact that he does not love you, you’re about ready to move on from Snowdin. It’s a wonderful place with many friendly faces, but you cannot stay here. Your home is on the surface with the rest of the humans. From what you were able to gather in the skeleton’s directions, your next step is Waterfall, east of Snowdin._

_After stocking up on a few supplies at the shop, and chatting a bit with the friendly rabbit there, you brace for the cold trudge forth. You find the spot where you battled Papyrus, the ground still pocked with gaps and holes from his barrage of bones. You carefully avoid falling into any of the larger pits, which have started to fill with snow._

_The weather is worse than you anticipated and for a while you consider going back. The wind barrels down on you, impeding your progress further as you struggle to remain upright. Whether it’s actually snowing or it’s just a product of the gale you’re unsure, but thick clouds of powder make it impossible to tell how far you are from Waterfall, or even if you’re going in the right direction._

_By some miracle, you eventually see the ground cover begin to fade and give way to dark teal grass and know you’re close. The stony walls of the cavern rise up around you until you’re totally engulfed within its maw. The river running next to you still carries the same massive blocks of ice you saw being produced earlier, but they’re waning with the increased temperature. All around, pillars of water trickle into the black abyss, and the air is filled with the hiss of liquid meeting rock. Despite all logic, it’s still bright enough in here to see._

_After a while of walking and taking in your surroundings, you come across an opening in the cave where you spot a familiar face. Sans is standing in another sentry hut. He appears to be dozing off, a couple of empty ketchup bottles next to him. You decide to let him rest and instead approach the other curiosities of the clearing._

_You walk up to a strange, tall flower jutting from the ground. It appears to glow bright teal and sways slightly in a breeze you can’t sense. The fish monster next to it explains that it’s an echo flower and that it repeats the last thing it hears. This is confirmed when the flower parrots back the monster’s explanation, word for word. Closer to the edge, you see the same monster kid you ran into in the village, the one in the striped shirt. They babble on about someone they're very excited to meet and beg you not to tell their parents about sneaking out to see her._

_As you prepare to move on, you see that Sans has woken up._

_“what? haven’t you seen a guy with two jobs before? fortunately,” he chuckles, “two jobs means twice as many legally required breaks. i’m going to grillby’s. wanna come?”_

_You accept the offer and he leads the way, insisting he knows a shortcut as he walks deeper into the cave. You follow him skeptically, making your way through the next tight passage. In the blink of an eye, you find yourself standing inside Grillby’s. Sans is in front of you. Waterfall has disappeared._

_“fast shortcut, huh?” he winks._

_You begin to suspect there is something special about Sans. It fills you with determination._

You’re awakened by the sound of your phone buzzing on the nightstand. You palm for it in the dark, wondering who could possibly be texting you now. Your lock screen reads 3:00 AM, and you see that the message is from a certain pint-sized bag of bones. 

‘hey’

You consider leaving it for the morning, but ultimately decide to reply. 

‘What do you want?’

‘sweet i knew you’d be up i could feel it in my bones’

‘I’m going back to sleep.”

‘no wait.’

‘we’re leaving on wednesday, you still wanna come with?’

‘Sure. Sorry about telling Papyrus, I didn’t know it was a surprise.

'And thanks for calling Toriel when I fell asleep.'

‘its cool i was gonna let em know when you made up your mind’

You lay back, content on letting the conversation end there. But, after a few minutes, unable to get back to sleep, you pick up your phone and start typing again. 

‘Sans?’

‘yeah’

‘Pap said you guys hadn’t been to the underground in a long time. Is that true?’

‘yeah’

‘Why did you lie?’

‘thought it sounded more convincing’

‘So why are you going back? Is there a reason you want me there?”

‘yeah’

‘What is it?’

You lie in wait for his reply, but it never arrives.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nearly at a thousand hits! That's awesome. Tomorrow is my birthday, so I'm not sure whether there will be an update or not. Either way, please continue leaving kudos and comments to show your support!

You tell Toriel first thing in the morning that you’ll be leaving the day after tomorrow to go to the underground. She seems genuinely happy for you, but also a little sad that she can’t come as well. To make up for it, she recounts all of the fun things she’ll be doing with her monster class over their break. Tomorrow, they’ll head out to go ice skating in the city, and they’ll all meet at the school for a visit from Santa on Thursday, Christmas eve. 

“Speaking of which,” she added, “I really hate to ask, but I need you to take something else to Asgore.”

“Why don’t you take it to him yourself?” you blurt out before you can catch yourself. 

“Well, you know that I… we just don’t…”

“But he was here the other night.”

“That was… different. We were both just worried about you.”

“I could disappear for a while if that might help,” you joke. 

She does not seem to appreciate it. 

You sigh, which she takes as you relenting, and fetches your parcel. It’s only a letter this time, sealed with a Christmas tree sticker. For the third time in as many days, you suit up for the cold, making sure to grab a scarf and hat before you exit. 

As it turns out, you really don’t need them. The weather outside has let up, at least for a little while, and some of the snow is even starting to melt. The road is completely free of ice, and many of the same cars that were parked before are now absent. On the way there, you think about charging a delivery fee for the trip between Toriel’s and Asgore’s. This leads you to the question of why she doesn’t just text or email him with the information you have in hand. What could be so important that it has to be hand-delivered? 

You stop for a moment and look down on the letter. Maybe you could...

No. You can’t open it. Not only would you have to rip the sticker, ensuring Asgore it had been tampered with, but it would be a betrayal of Toriel’s trust. She wouldn’t send you out unless it really was important. It is your duty to get this in the hands of the former king. Filled with... conviction, you continue, reaching Asgore’s home quickly. He too has put up some decorations, most obviously a large holly wreath on his door. You approach and knock, but Asgore seems to be out. You peek in through the garage window and confirm that his car is gone. 

You think about just sticking the letter in his mailbox, but it may not be read in time if you do so. Instead, using the key you knew would be under the welcome mat, you break in. Is it technically breaking in if you have a key? Maybe, you concede, but this is okay. It’s been a while since you’ve seen the inside of Asgore’s house, but it doesn’t seem to have changed much. Considering he lives alone, there’s no one else to clean up after or impress with new decor. You suddenly feel a little guilty that you don’t visit anymore. 

You close the door softly behind you, still cautious even though you’re alone, and step into the living room. Furniture is sparse, but what is present is very nice. Asgore of all people benefited the most from the realization that gold is a powerful form of currency to humans. Floor space is taken up by a comfortable armchair by the fireplace, a television, and a small table with two chairs. There’s a layer of dust on almost everything. 

You walk over and let the envelope flutter down to the table. Your job is done, you think, you can head back and spend the rest of your day doing nothing, just like you want to. But…

The thought of exploring again piques your curiosity and fills you with, well, something. Tenacity? Fortitude? You don’t know quite what to call this feeling, but it’s certainly something. You push away any guilt you have from the intrusion and survey your surroundings again. This technically isn’t the first time you’ve barged into Asgore’s home without announcement. And the first time turned out fine! Well, you did almost witness the destruction of all living things but that won’t happen again. 

Looking around, you notice two things you hadn’t seen before. The first is a framed picture hung on the wall. Walking over to it, you recognize it’s a photo of Asgore as santa with you on his lap. This was from the first year after the barrier broke, when everyone was still very close. Standing beside him is Toriel, her hand on his shoulder, though her smile looks a little forced. 

In the background are all of your friends dressed in holiday sweaters provided by Toriel and with varying expressions. Alphys is nervously trying not to blink and ruin the picture, leading to her looking very surprised. Undyne is standing next beside her, holding her hand and giving the biggest, toothiest smile possible, eyes closed intentionally. Mettaton, in his rectangular form, is posing as though he’s in his curvier form. His sweater didn’t fit, so instead you’d hung a bunch of ornaments from his arms to make him look more festive. Several of them have fallen to the ground and broken. Papyrus is standing tall, his cape fluttering behind him, but he’s facing Mettaton and not the camera. That, or he’s focusing on his profile. Though you can’t make it out from this angle, you remember him frantically altering his sweater to read ‘COOL MERRY CHRISTMAS’ before the photo was taken. Finally, Sans is standing at the very edge of the frame, his hands inside his pockets, winking. You could have sworn he was the one who volunteered to take the picture, but you must be mistaken. 

The other thing you notice in Asgore's home is a yellow flower sitting in a pot on the windowsill. Even now, years later, you’re still a little freaked out at the sight. You approach quietly and examine the center between its petals. Luckily, it’s just a flower. 

In all your persistence to explore, you don’t hear the garage open until it’s too late. You freeze in place, knowing you have little chance to bolt to the door before being caught. Then again, your intrusion will be obvious either way with the letter on the table. You hadn’t entirely thought this one through. Instead, you decide to take the nonchalant route. Maybe if it look like you’re supposed to be here, he won’t freak out. 

Asgore spots you as soon as he opens the door from the garage and freaks out. He’s carrying several bags of groceries, all of which he scrambles for after he jumps. Something is very funny about seeing such a massive creature spooked by someone of your stature, but you hold back your laughter.

“Frisk?” he flaps. “W-what are you doing here?”

“Oh, I was just delivering this letter from Toriel,” you try to affect an easy-going tone, but it only seems to be making things worse. Instead, you flip back to being nervous. “I, uh, found the key and brought it in.” You point to the letter on the table. 

“Well, um, thank you,” Asgore says, flustered. 

“No problem,” you return. You begin to step back, taking one last glance at the room before leaving, but instead pause. “Hey Asgore.”

“Yes?”

“Would you make me a cup of tea?”

“Of course,” he spouts. His expression softens and you can even see the hint of a smile as he carries his groceries off into the kitchen. You take a seat at the table as you hear him filling up the kettle and placing it on the stove. He returns shortly and takes the chair across from you.

Though he looks excited at first, it becomes quickly apparent that you have nothing to talk about. You’ve been strangers for so long that it’s hard to find a place to start. While your life has undergone a few changes, notably graduating from school, his existence has remained basically the same since leaving the underground. Now that monsters can lead their own lives, there’s no use for a king.

After a few awkward, silent minutes, he goes back to the kitchen. You start to regret staying. Though it’s nice to keep Asgore company, maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. He returns again with two tea cups on saucers and places one in front of you before sitting down. 

“Let it steep for a moment,” he instructs you, folding his hands on the table. You watch as the tea seeps from the bag into the water, turning it a bright, warm orange. 

“I’m going back to Snowdin,” you finally blurt out, unable to handle the silence any longer. 

“You are?”

“Yeah… I’m going with Sans and Papyrus.”

He doesn’t respond. 

“The skeleton brothers.”

“Oh, of course,” he smiles. 

“They moved in right down the street from here.”

“Well, it’s always good to see new faces.”

It sounds more like he’s spouting stock phrases than trying to further the conversation, but you appreciate his effort. He takes a small sip of his tea and sighs, eyes closed. You take the hint and begin to drink from your own cup. 

Both the scent and flavor are very nostalgic for you. It reminds you of your first and last visit to Undyne’s original house in Waterfall, where she made a cup for you shortly before everything was incinerated. It also reminds you of your short fight with Asgore, where the scent was thick in the air of his garden, just before you reached the barrier. 

But it doesn’t only remind you of the underground. It reminds you of here, too, where you used to have a drink with the old man on a regular basis. He would always gift you a few boxes for your birthday, but Toriel wasn’t a fan. She said it was too strong for a little kid, but you suspected it just brought up painful memories. You hadn’t made any for yourself in years. 

You finish not long afterwards and things seem a little better. Asgore looks genuinely happy. Your eyes dart to the letter still sitting next to him. 

“Are you going to read Toriel’s letter?” you ask. 

“Oh, uh, well,” he blabbers, tensing up again, “maybe later.”

You take this as your sign to head out and stand up. He follows suit, wringing his hands nervously and eyeing the envelope as though you’ll snatch it back. You say goodbye and thank him for tea. He blubbers something akin to ‘you’re welcome’. 

With that, you head home.


End file.
